


P[repare] T[o] S[tand] D[own]

by cocoacremeandgays



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Gen, PTSD, Past Military Service, Poetry Format(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:30:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocoacremeandgays/pseuds/cocoacremeandgays
Summary: They don’t talk about it.





	P[repare] T[o] S[tand] D[own]

There is a crack in the ceiling  
and it is approximately  
two inches to the left of Stan’s head  
Not even a foot further is  
where the ceiling meets the wall  
and nestled into that corner is a triad of ladybugs  
(that had become entangled in a spiderweb)  
He does not watch the ceiling often  
but when he does  
he finds something new.

“You can talk to me, you know,”  
Kyle tells him one morning  
his lungs still caked in last night’s  
activities  
It’s five  
(in the morning)  
neither of them slept  
“About it.”

He says it like he needs to clarify  
but they both know he doesn’t.

They don’t talk about it.

“I can’t,”  
says Stan.

It’s an incremental torture  
He isn’t ready to give up his monsters  
He’s not prepared to let go of his demons  
He has prepared to stand down.

Three weeks go by  
and the world still spins  
(like nothing happened last year)  
His therapy comes from:  
1\. Christmas visits and  
2\. Thanksgiving dinners  
His solace is taken from:  
1\. halfhearted birthday gifts and  
2\. gratitude from people  
(he’s never met before).

Sundays twist to  
Mondays fall to  
Fridays.

The cycle repeats.

The crack in the ceiling is:  
still there  
(repeat).

The triad of ladybugs is:  
still there  
(repeat).

The spiderweb is:  
still there  
(repeat).

Dust collects on the windowsill.

He gets high off of:  
1\. nostalgia and  
2\. frozen pizza, but  
3\. additionally:  
he still hasn’t gained any weight.

He eats on Wednesday  
and before he knows it  
it’s Sunday again.

“I just wanna know where you are,”  
Kyle tells him one night  
They’re side by side in bed  
sprawled out like starfish under the  
night sky of 90’s ceiling decorations.  
The sun abandons them  
(leaves them alone to fade).

“I’m here,”  
says Stan  
His fingers twitch against the covers  
scratching remnants of:  
his existence  
into the threads  
He does it to:  
remind himself  
(of his permanence)  
He does it to:  
keep himself  
(sane).

Kyle frowns up at the mock of  
the night sky above them.

Sundays twist to  
Mondays fall to  
Fridays.

(repeat)

Work keeps him out of poverty  
(that means he’s happy).

He sees a little girl:  
1\. take off her winter boots in the  
2\. freezing cold; she  
3\. offers them to a homeless man  
Stan wonders where the good in the world went.

He stares at his phone until two  
(in the morning)  
and sleeps  
(until four).

He eats a bowl of cereal.

Before he knows it  
it’s Sunday.

(again)

The crack is still there  
(again).  
  
The ladybugs are still there  
(again).  
  
The spiderweb is still there  
(again).  
  
Dust is on the windowsill  
(again).  
  
Kyle is laying next to him  
(again).  
  
The world keeps turning.

“I want to talk about it,”  
says Stan.  
His fingers do not dig  
into the bed sheets  
He ignores the sergeant  
(in his spine)  
that tells him to  
prepare to stand down  
His legs scream  
run, soldier, run.

Kyle does not say,  
“you missed your chance.”

Kyle does not say,  
“I don’t care.”

Kyle does not say,  
“about what?”

“Start from the beginning,”  
Kyle tells him.

_Mayday, mayday;  
_ _mayday, mayday._

_Move, move;  
move, move._

_Did I_  
_fucking stutter_  
 _private?_

Stan swallows.

“I shot a man,”  
says Stan  
He says it like he wants it to disgust Kyle  
(In a fucked up way, he does).

“How did it feel?”  
Kyle asks  
He stares at Stan with:  
eyes of green  
They’re so close  
the tips of their noses  
(almost)  
touch.

_Aim, fire;  
_(breathe)

_aim, fire;  
_(out)

_aim, fire;  
_(breathe)

_aim, fire  
_(in).

_Run, soldier;  
run._

“Inhuman,”  
says Stan  
Kyle breathes  
It feels like:  
dust blowing  
(into his eyes).

“It was a job,”  
Kyle tells him  
“It was work.”

_Who has the_  
_keys to the_  
 _fucking Humvee?_

“It was more than that,”  
says Stan.

_Prepare to:  
stand down, soldier._

_Prepare to:  
stand down._

_Sending in back-ups:  
now._

_Do_  
_you_  
 _copy?_

_10-4._

“It was Hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> i tried my hand at something new. idk what it is exactly, but i mean... its something. so, yeah.
> 
> feel free to leave reviews / comments / feedback / thoughts. in fact, please do; i'd love to hear anything and everything y'all have to say, especially on something so different from what i usually do (i mean, heck, i dont even know how to tag this, lol).
> 
> thank you for reading :)


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